


angel

by sixtieshairdo



Category: History (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Yoonpearl, lapslock, references to yijeong calling yoongi an angel, references to yoongi being an actual suga daddy, slight angst, soft smut, sugapearl, yijeong has feelings, yoongi is in his bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-11 21:39:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15324903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sixtieshairdo/pseuds/sixtieshairdo
Summary: “what are you thinking about?”he sighs, curling a fist into the back of yoongi’s head, slightly thrown off by the grit in yoongi’s sleep-addled voice.“aren’t you scared?”“no.”he wants to laugh because he’d expected yoongi to ask him what he meant. before he knows it, yoongi’s above him, blinking slowly at him, and he must be crazy because he can feel yoongi’s words even before he hears them.“i’m not afraid. are you?”he smiles in spite of himself.“not for myself. i have nothing to lose. but you—”“i’m not scared. i’m tired of being scared of everything, and nothing.”“which one am i?”





	angel

**Author's Note:**

> my first foray into sugapearl :p
> 
> <3

“are you an angel?”

it drives him crazy that yoongi had the audacity to blush over a line that stupid.

it drives him even crazier that he had the gall to come up with something so mundane.

but it worked. it fucking _worked_ somehow.

maybe it’s how he’s losing touch with being an idol. maybe it’s the fact that he’s going to be a free man soon, even if it means he’d have to go through military service and say goodbye to his career as an idol – at least an idol at his prime. maybe it’s the way he didn’t think someone from a high-profile band with the world at his feet would even spare him the slightest attention.

or maybe, just maybe, the feeling is mutual between them.

maybe yoongi’s tired of being locked up in whatever contract he’s signed with the devil. maybe yoongi’s reaching his breaking point, ready to run into no man’s land and say fuck you to the money-hungry corporation that owns him. maybe yoongi’s had enough of not getting what he deserves.

“are you an angel? because, _fuck_ , you look like sin.” 

he deserves a slap over his mouth for that, because he is filled with banal lines from late night rom-coms that he watches to cringe more than to enjoy, if he’s being really honest. 

why is yoongi not cringing at him? 

why in the world would he blush even _pinker_?

the blankets hide yoongi’s porcelain-white skin from his shoulders down, but the sheer knowledge that yoongi’s completely naked under those sheets, that he’s had kissed places on yoongi’s body he’d only dared to fantasize about, that he’d tasted yoongi at his most vulnerable…

those are thoughts getting him aroused all over again.

he’s not 18 anymore. 

he’d done this with other people before, but he’d never been more enamoured by anyone until he met yoongi and it’s far-fetched to think beyond the hotel bedroom, or either of their studios, or their text and video messages.

he knows a scandal could ruin yoongi at any given time, the fanbase as integral to the success of the group as they could be to the group’s downfall. he didn’t think it would be a big deal to share yoongi’s generous gift to him via social media, didn’t think anyone would care that he’d been openly touched by the gesture, didn’t believe that fans would monitor his interactions with yoongi’s social media and notice how he’d liked posts specific to yoongi.

he doesn’t have much to lose, but yoongi has everything on the line.

“stop staring at me.”

he snaps out of his rampant thoughts, shaking his head slightly before laying on his pillow again, fear easing its detrimental ways under his skin.

“sorry.”

he curls into himself, unsure what to do with his hands so he wraps them around himself.

he’s more than a little startled when yoongi scoots closer, soft hair nudging his chin up so he could lay a cheek against his chest. he lets himself relax, opening up his arms to pull yoongi close, a hand running down smooth skin, fingers tracing the pebbled ridges on yoongi’s spine.

yoongi is sweet, far sweeter than he’d expected him to be.

when he’d first met him with the other rappers of the group, he’d been understandably intimidated by the kind of power these three men held in their presence. he quickly warmed up to them though, and formed a bond with yoongi the easiest. he’s not sure why, but it was easy to talk to yoongi, and perhaps it was because yoongi tried the hardest amongst the three. 

he soon found himself sharing a drink with yoongi, swapping jokes over messages, and when he received the synthesizer at this door step, his brain short-circuited, and he couldn’t help posting it on social media with a godawful caption.

things started to heat up really quickly between them, and he soon found himself waiting for yoongi in a hotel room at a quieter part of seoul, and he remembered that words weren’t his strongest suit when yoongi turned up, rain-beaten hoodie carelessly thrown across the room in what felt like seconds upon his arrival, and he couldn’t think of anything beyond yoongi’s lips, and hands, and skin that night.

“what are you thinking about?”

he sighs, curling a fist into the back of yoongi’s head, slightly thrown off by the grit in yoongi’s sleep-addled voice.

“aren’t you scared?”

“no.”

he wants to laugh because he’d expected yoongi to ask him what he meant. before he knows it, yoongi’s above him, blinking slowly at him, and he must be crazy because he can feel yoongi’s words even before he hears them.

“i’m not afraid. are you?”

he smiles in spite of himself.

“not for myself. i have nothing to lose. but you—”

“i’m not scared. i’m tired of being scared of everything, and nothing.”

“which one am i?”

it’s a stupid, frightening, slip of tongue. he doesn’t know what he expects to hear. he gets a response quicker than he thought he would, yoongi’s eyes soft in spite of the words he relayed.

“you’re not nothing.”

he nods, a stone lodged in his throat. he understands and he’s not an idealist, but it hurt to hear anyway.

“yijeong, i’m not scared. i like what we have. i like _you_.”

he closes his eyes as he feels yoongi lean down to kiss him, that lithe body laying on top of his, and he wraps his arms around yoongi’s too-thin waist, wondering how far and how long this can last.

he chooses to lock his restless thoughts aside, for now at least, flipping yoongi on his back, and pinning those pretty wrists above him. he pants, already breathless from the way yoongi looks at him like he could ruin him.

“are you an angel?”

“not at all.”

he rocks his hips down slow and with purpose against yoongi’s, relishing in the way yoongi’s eyes roll up in pleasure.

he lets himself burn in the heat of their heaven, temporarily unafraid for the night.

he can worry about his heart when dawn breaks later.


End file.
